My Rebellious Heart (15 page)

beauteous creature he'd ever seen. She certainly was not the most sweet-tempered!

But there was something nonetheless, something that made him want to snatch her against him and taste anew the velvet softness of impudent lips, the lithe firmness of her frame, pliant and yielding against the strength of his. Perhaps it was that regal pride of hers, the fiery spirit beneath the surface; it beckoned a man, made him long to tame it.

He offered a scathing smile. "Oh, you need not worry on that score. You see, princess, I dislike soiled goods."

He had shamed her. A perverse pleasure shot through him as crimson flooded her face, until her cheeks were the color of flame. The next instant she straightened her spine, the light of battle in her eyes. But he had no chance to pursue this engagement of words and wit any further, for at that moment a tremendous commotion was heard from across the hal .

"He wil see me, by God!" a man shouted. "Or he'll rue the day he chose not to rob me of my life!"

Shana gasped. She knew that voice! Even as the realization poured through her, someone shoved through the battery of men that flanked the entrance. Shana gasped, convinced both eyes and ears played the cruelest of tricks on her ...

For the tal , shaggy-haired figure now striding toward them was none other than Sir Gryffen.

he earl had lied. For a timeless moment, that single thought remained etched in her mind.

Even as joy and relief burst through her, a ready anger ignited. She whirled on him. "You bastard!" she choked out, in fury and pain. "You let me believe you murdered him, when al the while you knew he lived!" With clenched fists she leapt forward, pounding and clawing with all the fire born within her.

Her fists did no more than wring a grunt from him. Hard arms encircled her and she was lifted from her feet. He thrust her at Geoffrey, who was quick to present himself at his friend's side.

"Here!" Thorne thrust her roughly at his friend. "Take her to the tower while I attend matters here!"

Screaming her ire, Shana was rudely—crudely— carried away amidst whispers and stares.

Sir Gryffen tracked her progress with anxious eyes, but made no move to fol ow. At a signal from Thorne, the hal began to empty.

"Your lady has been neither beaten nor starved," he said sharply. "Were I you, old man, I'd be more concerned with an explanation for your presence here!"

Though Gryffen's spine was rigid, he spoke with quiet dignity. "Methinks you need no explanation, milord. I swore an oath to Lord Kendal that I would protect Lady Shana with my very life ... and so I shall."

Thorne gave a harsh laugh. "What! And so you go where your lady goes, eh?"

Sir Gryffen showed no signs of backing down before the fierceness of the other man's glare.

"Aye, milord. I surrender myself to you that I might be with my lady." So saying, he withdrew his sword from his scabbard and laid it at the younger man's feet.

Thorne paid scant heed to the weapon that lay between them. He glowered at Sir Gryffen, less than pleased by the old man's appearance. "What possessed you to seek out your lady here at Langley?" he demanded.

"We knew you had escaped, milord, just as we knew you had taken our lady with you. 'Twas obvious you would return here."

"Did not her horse return to Merwen? Did no one search for her and find her cloak by the river?"

"Aye, milord. Her mount returned and those who discovered her cloak crossed themselves and prayed for her soul, even as they cursed you to hel and back for taking the life of our beloved lady."

"So you did not come for your lady after al — you did not realize she was here! You came to seek vengeance in her name!" Thorne started to chuckle his satisfaction.

Gryffen shook his head. "Nay, milord," he stated evenly. "I came because T knew you would bring Lady Shana here."

Thorne s smile vanished. "How? How could you know this when you believed her dead?"

"Not for long, milord." Gryffen was utterly patient. "While the others mourned, I searched for her body—"

"I might have weighted it with stone!"

One shaggy brow arose. "Would you, milord? Would you have taken the time when you knew not how soon your escape would be discovered? And why then would you have been so careless with her cloak if you wished to hide her death?"

Thorne scowled. "You knew it was a trick!"

"Not for certain," Gryffen admitted. "Leastwise, not until I saw her—" no sign of A smile smoothed the lines about his mouth, but for an instant the light of amusement shone in his eyes, "saw and heard that voice I know as wel as my own." The light faded as he tapped his temple. "You spared me, milord, when you might easily have slain me. And—praise God— you have spared Lady Shana."

Thorne scowled, for the man's conviction was gal ing. He was furious and disgusted, both with the old man and himself. He'd thought himself so clever, yet this old man had seen through him like a gossamer mist!

He set his hands on his hips. "So you think me merciful, eh? Your lady thinks me a butcher who slaughtered her people," he challenged. "Tel me, old man. Do you share her opinion?"

For the first time Gryffen appeared uncomfortable. "1 pray I do not make the mistake of misjudging you, milord/' he said slowly. "You may be cruel, but are you needlessly cruel? I think not—I pray you are not. And from your own lips, I heard you declare that the sacking of Merwen was not of your doing. And so it seems I have no choice but to accept your word in this."

Thorne's lip curled. "Why should you? You know nothing of me. And your lady thinks I am guilty."

"I have lived far more years than either of you," Gryffen stated quietly. "And I have learned to trust here, my lord, as milady has not." He laid his palm over his heart. With a slight shake of his

head, he added, "But mayhap 'tis not so much a matter of believing you innocent, as believing you are a man who would not hesitate to claim such a deed—no matter how dastardly—as his own."

Such uncontested belief made Thorne both suspicious and uneasy. Was this naught but a ploy by the man to gain his trust?

He stabbed a finger at the old man. "Then know this, old man. Your lady is my prisoner, as are you. I have not mistreated her as yet, but T would remind you she has scarce been here a day! As for you, some time in the dungeon wil do you no harm. Mayhap, if I am feeling lenient, I shal free you a few days hence."

Gryffen lowered his eyes. "When you do, I ask only that you permit me to watch over Lady Shana, even if it be from afar. I wil cause no trouble, milord, this I promise."

"See that you keep it," Thorne snapped. "For I can make promises, too, old man, and I promise your lady wil pay the price should you prove treacherous!" He snatched up Gryffen's sword, strode to the door and bellowed for a guard.

Moments later he marched up the tower stairs, his mood as sour as rancid wine. To think that the old knight had fol owed his lady here, like a hound trailing along at the heels of his master! Thorne could not understand such devotion to the lady in question; he balked at the obvious reason—surely neither loyalty nor love had played a part in it. More likely the old man had felt honor bound to her father, and thus bound to keep his vow.

It was with no little amount of trepidation that he entered his chamber. He half expected some deadly missile to fly at him from the shadows, but she merely fixed stormy gray eyes at him from her post near the window. Unfortunately, she wasted no time loosing that vile tongue of hers.

"I am curious, milord. Docs the priest stil live? Or did you lie when you claimed you murdered him, too?"

He offered a wicked half smile. "Milady," he said lightly, 'JYour memory fails you, for never did I claim to have murdered the priest—'twas you who assumed that I did. And as for Sir Gryffen, 1 merely told you I left him beside the priest. Never did I say I kil ed either of them."

Shana fought to control her spiraling temper. She was immensely relieved that neither man was dead, but far surpassing her relief was her resentment over the agony he'd let her suffer.

She turned to face him ful y. "Where is he now?"

His smile was wiped clean. "In a place where I can be sure he poses no threat. I am not so foolish as to set him free to lead your people back here!"

"Such a brave knight that you fear an old man." Shana hurled the taunt unthinkingly.

His tone lent the sharpness of a blade. "No man is harmless, princess—save a dead one."

All color bled from her face. She watched as he sat on the bed and pul ed off his boots. He had spared Gryffen once; would he do so again? She wished she could be certain, but alas, the ruthless cast of his profile lent her no ease. He was, she realized, not a man to toy with.

She clenched her hand hard to keep it from trembling. "Gryffen has done you no harm," she said very low. "Indeed, milord, if anyone has wronged you, 'tis I."

There was a burst of harsh laughter. "On that, you are right, princess!" It faded when he raised his head and spied the worried fear in her eyes. "Sweet Mother Mary!" he growled.

"He is in the dungeon, princess, not dead!" He watched the fear in her gaze turn mutinous.

"What! Wil you not

appeal to my mercy? Oh, but I forget. According to you, I have none." "You will not release him, will you?" "At your behest? I think not, milady!" Shana took a deep breath. "Then—then put me in his place!"

Thorne was stunned to find she did not jest-Was she truly so concerned for the old man? Or did she merely seek to turn the tables and trick him this time? He dropped his boot on the floor and gave her a long, hard look.

"Please!" she cried. "Gryffen is an old man—" "Aye, milady, so you've informed me!" "What if he should sicken from the cold and damp? Without food he cannot—"

Thorne surged to his feet with a muffled curse. "I've no intention of starving the man, milady!

But I warn you, he will pay the price should you prove treacherous, princess. You would be wise to keep that in mind. In the meantime"—he pul ed off his tunic and let it fall to the bed —"I suggest you hurry. I find I am quite wearied."

The words dropped into the air with the weight of a boulder. Shana stiffened. Her uncertainty turned to ill-concealed annoyance as she beheld his broad smile.

He advanced, al lithe power and grace. "You are no doubt used to a maid," he said smoothly. "1 shall be happy to oblige, princess."

The tower chamber, which had seemed so spacious before, now seemed cramped and tiny.

Shana swallowed, unable to tear her eyes from Thorne's hair-roughened chest. She did not understand the rush of awareness that seized her, for this was something she had never encountered with Barris; nor could she stop the renegade thought that tumbled through her mind. Her gaze slid helplessly lower. She wondered if that dark,

dense pelt extended further, clear to the place which proclaimed his maleness ...

When he touched her shoulder she jumped.

He erupted into laughter "Milady, why so nervous? Are you not the woman who stood in this very chamber and claimed she feared no one, least of al any man?"

She stood stiffly She did not trust this sudden good humor. He stopped directly before her, settling his hands on her shoulders. Alarm shot through her when those night-dark eyes dropped to her lips. She inhaled sharply when his head began to lower.

With a sharp intake of breath she spurned him, twisting her head away. He held her firm.

"What!" he mocked. "You did not seem to mind my touch so this morning, princess. Do you find me repulsive as a rodent?"

Eyes as wel as lips declared her hatred. "You are worse—you are an Englishman!"

A twisted, leering smile touched his lips. "Ah, yes. One who slays the defenseless." He released her and made a curt, dismissive gesture. "I suggest you hurry, milady, before my patience grows thin."

He retreated to the table near the hearth. She watched as he poured himself a goblet ful of wine and drank deeply.

When she made no move, he lowered the vessel slowly. "I find I'm not averse to repeating last eve," he remarked casual y. "I cannot promise, however, that the outcome wil be the same."

Her heart began to hammer violently. "What do you mean?"

He smiled thinly. "I told you I intended to further our acquaintance. Mayhap if s time I did exactly that."

Sheer bravado prompted her resistance. "Barris

is the only man I would welcome in my bed, milord—or a certainty never you!"

He shrugged and placed the goblet on the table. "In the dark, princess, al women look the same. Al bodies feel the same. From your own lips you are no virgin. I've no doubt 'tis the same for a woman."

"That just goes to show, milord, how little you know of women!"

He shook his head, a maddening smile on his lips. "Do not seek to cross me, milady.

Methinks you would regret it when I proved you wrong, as I would be bound to do." There was no threat implicit in his tone, but the hardness in his eyes conveyed his import more clearly than words.

Shana raged inwardly. The man had no conscience—no scruples at al . Knowing he al owed no choice but obedience, her fingers went to the girdle at her waist. It was gal ing in the extreme that he forced her to disrobe before his very eyes—but better that than for him to do the deed himself as he'd done last eve. Two spots of scalding color hued her cheeks at the memory. Modesty demanded she turn away as she had last eve; pride decreed otherwise. A moment later, her gown pooled around her ankles. She reached for Ihe hem of her shift and tugged it over her head.

She was naked and wondrously so. Thorne had not taken the time to appreciate her last eve —he did so now, looking his fil , his gaze sweeping the length of her. Though she was tal for a woman, she was slender and deliciously made, long of limb, breasts high and jutting and tipped with nipples the color of ripe summer berries. Her bel y, narrow and concave, paved the way to the golden-red curls guarding her womanhood.